McWane Center

Last weekend I took the kids to the McWane Center and to be honest, it's not my most favorite thing to do.  It really is crowded and all the activities kind of freak me out.    I wish I could post some pictures of the kids enjoying themselves.  It was good to see them interact with all the experiments.  The best one was the bubble station.  They actually got to stand inside a bubble. 

But as we were leaving the one thing at the McWane Center that captivated them was Vulcan's Dream Machine.   A wonder of sound, color, and movement, this intricate contraption is a great example of a compound machine. Made of many simple devices like levers, inclined planes, wedges, pulleys, screws, wheels, and axles.  It really is amazing.

As I was watching Noah in a trance from the continuous motion of the steel balls moving through obstacles, winding tracks, up hills, down hills and drops, I couldn't help but think how this is how this is similar to life. 

I have been really thinking about life and death since Dad passed away.  And, as you have read, Sunday's are not the best day for me.  This particular Sunday, once again as I am watching this machine, it made me think how it resembles life. 

It starts suddenly, kind of like birth.  The ball drops into position to begin it's journey.  The track holds the ball steady and guides it along the path. Which made me think of how parents teach their children the basics of life, how to talk, walk, trust, love, etc. and how to guide them though their young lives. As the ball moves, it picks up speed and works it's way through a series of obstacles.  There are turns, drops, hills and barricades.  There are even parts of the machine that helps carry the ball onto the next path.  The ball sometimes assists other balls along the path.  Then as it embarks on the last section, the ball suddenly stops, death.  However, the ball pauses, then with a jolt, it drops!  The journey begins, again.

This is life.  A journey of obstacles.  There are people in one's life who is steady, strong, reliable.  There people you love, people who you you, people you trust, people who guide, as well as ones that make you hate, make you angry, make you sad.  There are times in life when you are cruising down hill and everything is smooth sailing.  At other times, everything is up hill, a daily struggle to just make it through the day.  Whether it is spiritually, emotionally, or financially, there are up hill moments.

Just as the ball has assistance of the conveyor belt.  There are people along the way to help carry us through difficult times.  We all depend on the people we love, the people we depend on, the people we trust, the people who will help during difficult times.  And at times, it is all down hill, just moving along with nothing standing in our way.

There is the aspect of speed.  How quickly time passes.  How quickly we grow from childhood, to young adult, to adult, to middle age, to elderly.  Which is the last part of the journey in which one grows.  But unlike the machine at the McWane center, once the ball stops, there is no sudden jolt to begin the journey all over again.  It just stops.    

I Want To Hold Your Hand

The reason I'm writing this is that one day when I am old and senile I will be able to remember this sweet memory.   I just hope my eyesight will hold out so that I can read it!

When I was a little girl I was afraid to go to sleep.  This may have something to do with my insomnia today, but that is just a hunch.  Well, after many years of therapy, I have realize why I am unable to go to sleep and why I have panic attacks which prevents me from sleeping at night.  This will be reviewed in another blog called Anxiety, Agitation and Anti-depressants.

When I was young, my grandfather passed away.  My very wise mother said that he was just sleeping.  Well, basically that scared the hell out of me.  So since then, I can't sleep like a normal person does.  For many years following his death, I would have to hold my mothers hand to go to sleep.  In my mind, that if I held her hand and something happened to her (she died) then our hands would forever be together.  Screwed up, I know, but I was a kid.  It gave me comfort knowing that she was right there.

It's amazing how you put memories in a place in your mind and they only creep out when something or someone brings them to your conscious.  I'm sure my very smart niece, Jessica, has a psychological term for this, but I don't. 

One night about a year ago, Noah and I was getting ready for bed.  He lays with me until he goes to sleep.  He sweetly slipped his hand into mine.  For some reason, this brought this memory back to mind.  He wanted to hold my hand as he drifted off to sleep.  And it has been a sweet tradition ever since.  I hope that fear is not the reason he is holding my hand, but just comforting knowing I am right beside him every minute and I will never let him go. 

Everynight, like clockwork, he gets settled into bed.  And as he gets drowsy, his sweet hand reaches for mine. I have never shared this story with him.  Or anyone else, except therapist, for that matter.  I'm not sure who is finding the most comfort by holding hands!  I pray that his dreams are peaceful.  And at least I have him for a little while.

Brownies, anyone?

Now is my second weeks of Weight Watchers.  Yes, I have joined Weight Watchers.  I have really watched my weight for the past 16 years, except I have watched the scales go up, and up, and up.  Well, you get the picture.  This has been something I have been looking into doing for the past several months, but with all he chaos in my life, I just never got around to it.  Then I noticed my niece looked alot thinner at Easter.  She announced she was on Weight Watchers.  It was working for her.  So I jumped on board.

I really don't like the word addiction, for there are many addictions in this world and everytime I watch Maury Povich, I learn a new one.  There is alcohol addiction, drug addiction, sex addiction, gambling addiction, and the list goes on and on. I do think that I do have a food addiction.  I love food.  It is all too consuming (literally) - mind and body.  Does my mood effect my food intake?  Of course!  When I'm sad, I eat, when I'm bored, I eat, when I celebrate, I eat.  Almost every occasion or moment, I eat!  This will be a way to think differently.

Now the first week was insane.  I was hungry and trying to figure out the points system and Brianna said it took about 2 weeks for her to find her groove.  Which has been somewhat true for myself, however, I'm getting into the groove of the measuring food and watching portions.  Really this diet is not much different than the diet I was put on when I had gestational diabetes when I was pregnant with Jacob.  Except a lot less portions.

The first week my mood was a nightmare.  And I was totally obsessed with food.  It is funny how the lack of food really effects your mood.  My mood was dramatically different.  Anyone in my way was doomed.  Really it is just a play on words, but truly the case.  At one point, my children were begging me to go off of the diet.  The beginning of week 2, I am getting adjusted.  I have not had refined sugar in 1 week and a day, which is a major accomplishment.  Even as the Oreo's (blond) passed me by and my precious son announced to remind him when 30 minutes were up, he was making brownies. 

Can I say that this will be something that I can stay with and lose weight?  Time will tell, but I have been giving it a go.  I do believe that it is about thinking about portion control.  Something I have not ever been too concerned about, however, when I went to eat yesterday, we had an appetizer and entree.  I only had 2 cheesesticks, 3 oz steak with 1/2 cup of mashed potatoes.  In the past, I would have consumed half the cheesesticks, ate all the steak and mashed potatoes.  So, progress is progress. 

Brownies, anyone? 

Thou Shalt Not

What is a promise?  A promise is a declaration that something will or will not be done, given, etc., by one.  Isn't it wonderful when people make promises for you when they may seem impossible to keep?  There have been two promises made that have lingered with me for awhile.  The first promise, one that was made when my mother was passing away.  As everyone stood by her bedside and she was able to tell us she loved us, she turns to Gary and asks for him to make her a promise.  She asks Gary to make sure I brush my hair.  What?  Of course, he says yes.  What?  I do have that unkept, free flowing look, but I do brush my hair daily, as well as, shower and brush my teeth.  I do not need to have someone make me brush my hair, and certainly not Gary.  Promise #1 - ridiculous!

Onto the next, most recent promise.  Dad was on his way to surgery and Debbie says, "Daddy wants you to quit cussing".  Now I am not very proud of the fact that I can probably out cuss any sailor on any given day.  And technically, Daddy never asked me directly to quit cussing.  It was translated through Debbie.  I do realize that this is not a very good part of my personality.  At times I think maybe I have a mild form of turrets where it just happens.  I sometimes feel that I have no control over what I am saying. 

With Dad's passing I have been thinking alot about this promise.  I didn't promise to brush my hair and I don't think that messy hair is a deal breaker on getting into heaven and eternity.  But maybe cussing or swearing is, so I'm thinking about it.  As Dad is waiting for surgery, Debbie and I are discussing whether the words I choose, at times, are in fact a sin.  My rebuttal is that there is only one word addressed in the Bible as swearing.  All the others are not stated as Thou Shalt Not say.  So are they truly off limits and sinful? 

So now I am on mission to find out the answer to this question.  Who would I go to to find out the answer?  Billy Graham would know, but how does one get in touch with Billy Graham?  I don't know. " Maybe Jimmy Swagart.  He was always on our television, holding the Bible, every Sunday morning until the embarrassing situation with  "the magazines".  Who is the most knowledgeable person I know when it comes to the Bible?  Oh, it would be Larry, my brother.  He listened as I explained and here is his response via email:

What Do The Inspired Scriptures Say?

Cursing is certainly a sin according to the inspired Scriptures, no matter what a society says or accepts. The inspired apostle Paul tells us to “Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers” (Ephesians 4:29). We are again warned by Paul to “put off all these; anger, wrath, malice, blasphemy, filthy communication out of your mouth” (Colossians 3:8). In the Greek language, the phrase, “filthy communication” means foul speaking, low and obscene speech.

In his letter, James declares that cursing should not come out of our mouth (James 3:10). He admonishes us further in James 4:11, not so much as to speak evil of another brother. For an example, Peter assured the Lord that he would “never fall away” from following him (Matthew 26:33 – ESV). Yet, just a few short hours later, this same apostle “denied with an oath” that he even knew Jesus (Matthew 26:72). The inspired record says that he even began to “curse and to swear”, reinforcing his denials of Jesus (Matthew 26:74). If the best of men were guilty of occasional lapses with regard to cursing and swearing, we must be constantly on guard that we do not sin even more grievously.


Conclusion

In Colossians 4:6, the apostle Paul tells us to, “Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man.” Our speech should contain wholesome, pure, kind, and beneficial words. Words that encourage and build up a person, instead of tearing them down (Proverbs 16:23; Proverbs 25:11; cf. 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; 1 Thessalonians 5:8-11).
So there it is!  There is more to his email, but there is proof and I am trying to stop cussing.  I have truly made a conscious effort to STOP THE PROFANITY. 

My morning drive is usually rushed and full of expletives, but Friday's drive was a breeze and no profanity.  As I thought more about these scriptures and my goal of becoming "cuss-free", I thought about the only book of the bible I have read completely.  It was the book of Job.  I heard Rick and Bubba talk about this book in the Bible and how helpful it was when Rick lost his son.  I wanted to find out more, so while on our trip to Washington D.C., I read the book of Job.  As it talked about Job's loyalty to God and how he lost everything but never questioned or turned away from God.  His faith never wavered.  Then I realized that this was in late January or February, right before Dad was admitted into the hospital. 

Then an amazing revelation occurred to me - was God trying to prepare me for my father's death?  I must admit, it hasn't been very easy for me.   I have been angry and bitter.  I have not been angry at God, but just angry and lost.  My soul is empty.  As I thought about this more, I realized that God has been with me all along.  That it was his way of preparing me for the events that were about to take place.  That he wanted to assure me that I shouldn't loose faith in Him.  That he would guide me to a place where I would belong, a place of peace.

It was an amazing revelation and good for my soul.  God is amazing in all he does!

Empty Nest

I often wonder what an empty nest would feel like.  As I watch the Real Housewives of New Jersey, Caroline is experiencing empty nest syndrome.  I think this is my week to experience this experience for myself.  Anna and Noah will be at Aunt Linda's house, Jared will be working at the fireworks stand, and Jake in Chicago.  The whole week will be my own!  This doesn't happen often and not for such a long period of time.

Last night, we went to the drive-in.  As I stood in line for the nastiest bathroom in history and with no toilet paper, by the way.  I talked with a young women with two very small children.  Oh, how I remember these days.  I remember thinking, this will never end.  And just for the record, I bought diapers for 11 years straight.  I told her that I am so very glad those days are over.  Well, thinking about it, maybe I'm not as happy as I thought.

It is great that I have such wonderful family members that love my kids.  Aunt Linda watches Anna and Noah all week while I work.  I gripe about the drive to Ashville, but really, it's a small  for the benefit of having someone who will take the kids for sacrifice a whole week at a time and for the whole summer.  The kids love Aunt Linda and Uncle Charlie.  Did I mention they lived on the lake?  Who wouldn't want to spend the whole summer on the la

Then there is Jared.  He spends the summer with his cousin Brianna and who, I might say, is becoming quite the salesman.  Apparently, he can sale fireworks like no other 14 year old.  He has been working with Brianna for several seasons at the fireworks stand.  He even has repeat customers who ask specifically for him and will only purchase from him upon his guidance. 

And Jake will be in Chicago working with inner-city kids and helping with Vacation Bible School.  I pray that he has a safe trip, an enjoyable trip and one that will be a revelation for him.  I am so grateful for the people that love him unconditionally.  The men in his life, genuinely care for him and are helping guide him to make good choices in life.  I pray that he allows them to reach out to him and accept their guidance. 

As I look at the kids growing up and no longer need me to buckle them into their car seats, to bath them, to feed them, to change them, to answer the question "why",  it makes me sad.  Sad for the years that have passed.  I truly miss my kids when they are gone, even though I thought it would be easy and enjoyable.  I find myself thinking about Jake and hoping that his trip is as amazing as he hoped, Anna and Noah, swimming and fishing from the beginning of their day until the dark of the evening, and Jared, selling, learning to be helpful and learn the value of his dollar, as well as, being helpful and a positive role model for his biggest fan, Grant.

What will I do while I get a brief taste of my empty nest?  I will probably do nothing.  I will drive around, maybe shop alittle, eat pretty good meals.  But I do know, that my children will not be far from my thoughts.  I usually tell new parents, that when their child is born, you never think about anything else, you mind is always on your child/children.  Which has been true for me.  You hope they are safe, you hope that they have what they need,  you hope that they needs are taken care of, and you hope that they experience love. 

Is there anything else you can hope for your children? 

Father's Day

Most of those who know me know that today has been one of the hardest days ever.  My normal Father's Day routine would begin several weeks prior trying to decide what I was going to buy dad for Father's Day (except I didn't have to think too hard about it because he always told me exactly what he wanted), who was going to get him, where we were going to take him, and what we were going to feed him.  It sounds like a lot going on for my father, but he deserved it.  Little did I know last year, that he really deserved more than I could give him. 


To me, my father always seemed larger than life.  He was a large man and his hands were so strong.  Being the baby of the family, I was not subjected to the same discipline that my brothers and sisters endured, but there were a few moments where he would become angry.  He could be agitated for the most part, not angry.  My brother can paint a pretty clear picture of the discipline he received after getting a tattoo.  This story would be one that we would laugh over the follow days after my father's death.


On any given holiday, Dad would call several weeks in advance, almost like a reminder on the calendar.  His message would always be similar.  "Tina, this is your dad, Father's Day is coming up, are you going to take me out to eat?"  It doesn't matter which holiday or birthday referrenced, it was always the same.  So that everybody was on the same page, he called all of us.  Not sure of what order, but we all had the same call or message.  This was the beginning of the planning stage.  I would call Barbara, Barbara would call Debbie, and on down the family tree.  This was a big deal, as if we were planning for Royalty.  And it was, it was for my father.


The Father's Day gift always varied.  By varied, I mean, he had a small list of gift requests and I never waviered.  The following is "the list":  socks, boxer shorts, handkerchiefs, cigarettes, shirt or pants.  I was so happy when he decided he needed handkerchiefs, because it was something different than the usual socks or Alabama wear.  So handkerchiefs it would be.  And dollars, of course.


Usually and most often Father's Day would be celebrated at Barbara's house.  It just seemed more convenient and as the years passed, he had a terrible fear of falling.  He never seemed to mind her stairs, but it worked out well.  He would sit on her deck or back porch and enjoy a day full of "smoking".  His oxygen level was at a 0, but he was smiling.  He would say  "Tina, do you know when I'm gonna quit smoking?",  and I would say, "when, Daddy?".  His reply was always the same, "when they put me 6 feet under."  Well, Dad, you actually quit about 4 weeks before then! 

We have never been a family that ventured out on imagination when it comes to family get-togethers.  Christmas Eve is finger foods, Easter is ham and vegetables, Thanksgiving is turkey and dressing, and so on.  Sometimes we vary, but for Father's Day, butter beans.  We always had to have butter beans.  Any holiday really included butter beans.  Barbara always made sure that she had butter beans for Dad.  Once she cooked a big meal, I think for Easter, and all he ate was peanut butter.  He enjoyed his peanut butter and we enjoyed the rest of the meal. 

What have I done today to celebrate Father's Day?  Now that my father is no longer here.  It's been a hard day.  There has been no trip to pick up my father from the nursing home, no shopping for handkerchiefs, no cooking dinner for him.  It's been a day of sadness.  One that I feel that no one understands.  His love should be comfort, his belief in God should be calming, his life on earth should be celebrated.  While looking at his pictures, I have yet to find these emotions.  As I look through the years, I can see a man that loved us with all his heart, a good man that could forgive and forget, a helpful man, a religious man, a strong man.  

As I carry this sadness today, I am reminded, by my niece Sherri, that maybe, just maybe, that Dad, Ronnie and Rudy are all in heaven fishing.  I just hope to remind them, not to let Rudy lead the way home.  The last time he did, as Dad explained numerous times over the years, they got lost in Arkansas. 

I love you, Dad.

My Rainman

I was on my way home and I decided that tonight would be a positive night.  Even though it has been a difficult week.  Anyone that knows me, probably can understand that Sunday's and any other day is not a good day for me and as Father's Day approaches, I anticipate that it will be very hard day for me and my family.

I was just thinking about Jared, my Rainman.  And you may ask yourself, why would I call him Rainman.  Well, let me explain.  But, I may have to interject another story that makes me smile. And, probably it doesn't pertain to the Rainman explanation, but it is just a story that makes me laugh. 

Let's go back to the 1980's.  Every year the memory seems farther away.  I'm sure everyone has those memories that have lasted forever.  I'm not sure if it is polite to name people directly in a blog, so I will call him, hum, Tony.   Now that is funny in itself, but more of an inside joke.

Now people from my generation (I can't believe I just said that) can remember break dancing and popping.  It was huge.  Break dancing movies, popping in the streets, spinning, etc.  The whole Michael Jackson moon walking thing was huge.  And, of course, I couldn't do any of it.

Tony loved to pop, however, he would never pop when someone was looking, it was always when people had their backs turned.  All you would hear is Tony popping his chest.  I always wanted to see him.  Once, I did get the privilege to see him in action.  But, mostly, I just heard the pop.  It is still good to talk about this at family gatherings and holidays.  I just pray that one day, and I do ask every time, that Tony will trill me by doing this "just one more time". 

We will move onto the present and my Rainman.  And the memory I have of the popping, is very similar.  As some may think that Rainman may not be complimentary, but it definitely is to me.  I loved the movie, Tom Cruise and Dustin Hoffman, and the great story of Raymond and Charlie Babbitt.  If only my Rainman could count cards.  And my family realizes that I mean this in a very positive and loving way.  I want to share with you how proud I am of Jared and how he makes me smile.

Jared has always been very talented.  He is a country boy through and through.  He has a very special talent.  He knows the words to every country song.  If you think I'm exaggerating.  I'm not.  If we can only get him on that sing the lyrics show, I (he) would be loaded.  I needed a good laugh and as I was driving home, I remember his last weekend riding with me and him changing the station from country station to country station to country station.  As he changes the channel, he immediately knows every song, every word, without missing a beat. 

As he sits beside me, pointing out that the light is no longer on for the airbags, his favorite song comes on, "Shake it for Me" by Luke Bryan.  I believe Luke Bryan has passed Brad Paisley in Jared's  hierarchy of country favorites with the new song.  I don't know the lyrics to this song and I really don't know what it is about, but I can only image from the title it's probably not appropriate but, for a teenage boy, okay, I get it!

He looks at me, very serious, and I am going to try to paint a picture for you.  He puts his hand on his chest and very seriously, sings every word to this song.  He never forgets a word or a beat.  And is singing as if he is on the CMT Awards show.  The look on his face is priceless!  It takes me back to the Christmas he received his Sony Walkman (cassette) and the Dixie Chicks tape.  I would post a picture of him in his underwear, sippy cup, headphones on, listening to the Dixie Chick, but I'm sure that he would not appreciate it.  This is one of my happiest memory.  What a life?  Chocolate milk, favorite music and Christmas.  Ever since, he has been known as my country Rainman.  Now only if we could apply this talent to algebra and language.

I look at Jared now and the man he is becoming.  I am very proud of him.  Jared has overcome many challenges and has not always had things come easily, but he's forgiving, loving, funny, handsome, has a smile that can melt your heart and can sing you any country song written (after the Dixie Chick time period).  What lady would not love all that?  Well, that ladies are going to have to wait.  I have him for a few more years!

I love you! :)

That's What I Love About Sunday

That's What I Love About Sunday

Raymond's in his Sunday best,
He's usually up to his chest in oil an' grease.
There's the Martin's walkin' in,
With that mean little freckle-faced kid,
Who broke a window last week.
Sweet Miss Betty likes to sing off key in the pew behind me.

That's what I love about Sunday:
Sing along as the choir sways;
Every verse of Amazin' Grace,
An' then we shake the Preacher's hand.
Go home, into your blue jeans;
Have some chicken an' some baked beans.
Pick a back yard football team,
Not do much of anything:
That's what I love about Sunday.

I stroll to the end of the drive,
Pick up the Sunday Times, grab my coffee cup.
It looks like Sally an' Ron, finally tied the knot,
Well, it's about time.
It's 35 cents off a ground round,
Baby. cut that coupon out!

That's what I love about Sunday:
Cat-napping on the porch swing;
You curled up next to me,
The smell of jasmine wakes us up.
Take a walk down a back road,
Tackle box and a cane pole;
Carve our names in that white oak,
An' steal a kiss as the sun fades,
That's what I love about Sunday,
Oh, yeah.

Ooh, new believers gettin' baptized,
Momma's hands raised up high,
Havin' a Hallelujah good time
A smile on everybody's face.
That's what I love about Sunday,
Oh, yeah.

That's what I love about Sunday,
Oh, yeah.

What a great song by Craig Morgan.  I was fortunate to see Craig Morgan in concert last night.  It was awesome!  I can officially take that one off of my Bucket List.  There is something about a Craig Morgan song that makes you want to sing at the top of your lungs, hug your family and/or grab a cold beer.  However, he inspires you. 


I listen to this song and it makes me inspired.  This is what Sunday's should be about especially in the South. 

• Church
• Family
• Food

Who can argue with that?  I certainly can't, even a pessimistic person.  At some point in my life, my Sunday's changed.  Being that it is a day filled with "duties", who has time to relax on a porch swing?  Everything that you can not do in the week, seems to fall to Saturday and/or Sunday.  My Grandmother would not do a thing on Sunday except church and cook. This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.  I can't actually say when all this changed, but I do believe it had something to do with the stores opening on Sunday.

Now, the day is spent doing laundry, grocery shopping, and trying to spend time with the kids and family.  My goal is to establish some time management.  This is NOT how I spend my weekends.  But, what how am I going to accomplish this task now that Oprah is gone?  Where is Peter Walsh?  I might have to figure that one out for myself.  But certainly today, I'm exhausted.

I must quit blogging now, I have to go to Wal-mart and grocery shop, do the laundry, cook for lunch, etc.  Oh, forget it, I think I will take a nap instead.  Pencil that onto my calendar. 

If only my name began with the letter "K"

As I wrote the About Me stuff for my blog, I was very hesitant to list my name.  It might come as a surprise but my name is really not Nellie. I may not be Nellie, but as I thought about my previous post, I'm most certainly negative.  I do believe that the blog is helping me become aware of all the negativity I think or feel throughout my day.  So maybe this will be a helpful process.

Today at work I spoke to someone on the phone whose name was Tina.  Tina from Arizona.  She got a laugh out of the fact that my name was also Tina.  She asked how old I am and I told her and she was about the same age.  Then she talked about how our name must have been a popular name during that time. 

I began thinking about how many famous people named Tina.  How many can you name?  Tina Turner....that is about it.  That is how I felt growing up.   What if my name started with the letter "K"?  Oh, how my life might have been different, just by having a name that started with the letter "K".  Have you ever met someone named Kellie that you didn't love?

There are some pretty famous people whose name start with the letter "K" -  73 to be exact.  I know this because I can google.  All the Kardashian's names begin with the letter "K", except for Bruce and Rob (I hate that I know that).  There are tons of Kate, Katie, Kim, Kelly, Katherine.  The possibilities are endless!  It is not that I want to be famous, but my name just really didn't make a statement like maybe another name could have.  Or maybe, I was just too shy and blamed it on my poor name.

Once in the 6th grade, I tried to change the spelling of my name to make it a little "cooler".  So, I unofficially changed it to Teena.  How cool is that?  It lasted about 2 days.  Now when I look at my 6th grade yearbook, some autographs are spelled Tina and some are spelled Teena.  Just goes to show that maybe the name Tina was popular in the 1960's but, not so much in the 1970's.  Well, maybe it was only me.  The Tina from Arizona loves her name and loves that there are not that many Tina's in the world.  Just take Ginger from Gilligan's Island - she was a movie star and guess what her name is Tina Louise. 

 I must admit, as I blog about this name issue, my mother may have just liked the name Tina.  And I am who I am.  

So this is bloggin......

Well, here I am.  I am writing my first blog.  my inspiration came from my sweet niece (in-law).  I hate that word.  Does anyone realize how impersonal that in-law word truly is.  Wow! my first negative statement is in the first few sentences.  BTW, that was not planned.  I actually stole the phrase Negative Nellie from the same sweet niece.  However, Debbie Downer would have been a huge mistake.

As I thought about "my blog", many titles came to mind, but this has been a trend in my life.  I could talk about anything, but I hope that this process can be therapeutic and I can come to realize what has made or makes me such a negative person.  So with that, anyone reading this may or may not be interested in my journey.  But it is what it is.

A few other titles were considered, but this seems to be the right fit.  Am I really that negative?  I hope not, but due to recent events in my life, I can say that I'm not overly positive.  Was I born this negative?  I don't remember being negative as a child.  Heck, my Barbies always had great stuff and I was positive that they would have new stuff come Saturday when my mom would take me to K-mart (yes, I was a child before Walmart).  So, when did I become so negative and what exactly makes a person negative?  I'm not sure.  I hope that this blog will help me sort out the many thoughts (negative and positive) inside my head.

I will make one promise - I will try to be positive one day a week and hopefully it will become two, maybe three, four, then maybe - just maybe five - okay that is a stretch but it can happen.  Now, this blog is not going to be like the Julia blog where she cooks everyday for 365 days and blogs about it.  First, I don't like to cook and I really don't like French food.  Honestly, I am a picky eater (even though my body doesn't support that statement) and I hate onions.  Have you ever watched Food Network and seen a recipe that doesn't have onions in it?  Well, I haven't.

So I'm off on this journey and you are welcome to come along.  Comments, suggestions, and criticisms are good.  I welcome all.  But, I don't take criticism well.  Someone tried to put a positive spin on criticism by saying "constructive criticism".  Is constructive the same as positive?  Who came up with that one?  Is there such a thing - it doesn't matter if it is constructive or just criticism, it hurts all the same.  I will save that subject for another day.